


Wait A Minute Mister Postman!

by PastelWonder



Category: Spy (2015)
Genre: A teaspoon of angst, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Halloween, Het, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-30 05:29:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5152064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastelWonder/pseuds/PastelWonder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Susan and Rick have a little Halloween fun!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wait A Minute Mister Postman!

**Author's Note:**

> For my husband.

“Mahm!” Susan’s twelve-year-old son yelled from the upstairs landing.

She shut the oven door, setting the timer as she called back, “Yes, Will?”

“I can’t find my horns!”

She sighed. “Ok, one second honey!”

She undid her apron, tossing it onto the counter. The breakfast things were still on the table, she noticed as she passed the breakfast nook.

“Seriously, guys?” she muttered to herself, calling, “Mare-y!” as she started up the stairs.

“What!” her fifteen-year-old barked back. “I’m on the phone!”

Susan gritted her teeth. “Get off the phone and pick up the breakfast table! Please!”

She heard her daughter stamp her foot. “Ok! Gosh…”

“Mom.” William was standing in the doorway of the master bedroom with a grave expression, his arms crossed over his chest. He was the carbon-copy of Rick Ford, right down to his flair for melodramatics. “I can _not_ find my horns! My costume doesn’t make sense without the horns!”

Susan might have been more impressed by the gravity of the situation had her son’s face not been smeared with what looked like red lipstick.

“Will,” she pinched his chin in her hand and tilted his head to get a better look at his handiwork. “Honey, what is on your face?”

“Face paint.” He held up a tube of - _yep_ \- her Revlon lipstick. The label said Cherry Crush.

“Son, that is not facepa- where did you get that?” Her eyes narrowed. “Did you get into my purse?”

“Mom!” He wrenched his chin out of her hand and jabbed his finger at the floor, _Why are you doing this to me right now?_ “I cannot find my horns.”

“Ok, ok - take it from a ten to a five. Your horns are on the counter, next to your bookbag. I found them on the stairs last night.” Really, Rick had stepped on them on his way up the stairs last night, and had howled bloody murder. “You need to be more careful about where you -”

“Mahm!” Mary Claire shrieked from downstairs.

Susan pinned her son with a look. “Don’t move,” and leaned over the banister. “What, sweetie?”

Mary was a blend between Susan and Rick. Tall and athletic, like William, with her mother’s eyes and button nose. And the dimples - all three of her children had the dimples.

Right now Mary’s mouth was curled down in a frown, her arms wide at her sides in exasperation. “Danny is making a mess!”

From somewhere in the kitchen, her six-year-old brother piped, “No I’m not!”

“Yes you are!”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

_This could go on all morning._

“Ok, enough! Both of you!” Susan took a deep, calming breath before calling sweetly, “Danny?”

“Yes, Momma?” He appeared at the bottom of the stairs, peering up at her with mischievous brown eyes. He was wearing his Spiderman costume, sans mask, and his light-up Batman sneakers.

Susan smiled. “Come up here and help Momma fix Will’s face, ok?”

Daniel nodded, bounding up the stairs on all fours like a dog.

William’s voice cracked as he whined, “What’s wrong with my face?”

She caught Daniel in her arms as he lept off the last step, beaming.

She beamed back at him as she hefted him onto her hip. “You are getting too heavy, big boy.”

He wriggled, wrapping his arms and legs around her tightly and burying his face into her neck. “Nuh-uh!”

“You’re such a baby,” William scoffed.

“You breast-fed until you were three,” Susan loved to remind him. Even with her lipstick all over his face, she could still see him blanch. She pointed through her bedroom. “Bathroom. Now.”

“I’m not a baby,” Daniel pouted as she set him down.

She caught his little hand in hers before he could dash off down the stairs. “You’re my baby,” she told him quietly, pulling him into her side.

He grinned.

Inside her bathroom, she directed William to sit on the edge of the garden tube while she rummaged through her drawers for a makeup sponge.

“Where’s the lipstick?” she asked as she attempted to blend the streaks.

He produced the tube from his pocket. Like all things that come out of little boys’ pockets, it was sticky and warm.

The end was destroyed, she noted as she uncapped it. She applied a little more to his upper lip, dabbing with the sponge as she said, “Will, you need to ask before you borrow things. You can’t just-”

At that moment, the front door opened and Rick yelled, “Suzy? I’m back!”

“Up here!” she called.

_Wait til he gets a load of this_ , she thought, tapping a little more red around William’s hairline.

Will took the opportunity to plead his case. “Look Mom, I’m sorry I didn’t ask - I needed to finish my costume because Jeremy’s friend Jacob said he’s going as Blood Rage Four too, and I-”

There was the _clop-clop_ of her husband’s heavy footsteps across their bedroom, and then a low wolf-whistle from the bathroom door.

He was wearing his dark running shorts, tee shirt clinging to the wet stain in the center of his chest. His head shone with sweat.

He grinned at her. “Whocher?”

_Just ridiculously handsome._

She stepped aside so Rick could see William. She heard snickering, and thought it was Rick, until she caught Daniel out of the corner of her eye, plopping her rose-scented bath bombs into the toilet. “Danny, no!”

Rick sprung into action, crossing the spacious bathroom in three giant strides and scooping Daniel up with an arm around his middle. “Oi, boyo! None a’that, now.”

Daniel laughed maniacally, letting his arms and legs dangle as Rick swung him from side-to-side.

Visions of Daniel kicking out one of the mirrors above the sink, the two of them covered in razor-sharp glass, flashed in her mind. “Rick! Careful!”

“Relax, Suzy - I got ‘im.” Rick gave her a cocky smile, dropping Daniel onto the counter and ruffling his hair. “Danny-boy.”

Daniel kicked his feet against the cabinet, leaning over his knees to watch his shoes light up each time they landed with a _thud_.

_That should keep him entertained for a good ten minutes._

“What ‘appened to you, Will?” Rick looked his son up and down.

William huffed. “It’s my costume, Dad.”

“What you goin’ as - a tampon?” Rick chuckled at his own joke.

William blustered, “I’m the demon from Blood Rage Four-”

“You look like Danny’s Elmo doll-”

“Ok, guys.” Susan give Rick a look, _Work with me, please_ , and tipped Will’s chin up to blot at his face. “Almost done, Will. You are going to be a way cooler Blood Rage Four than Jacob, I promise.”

“Hey, Mom?” Mary called from the bathroom door. “Do you know where my wristband is? The yellow one? From Puma?”

“Hmm?” Susan turned to answer her. “Oh I think it’s - Christmas on a cracker! Mary Claire Ford, what the eff are you wearing?!”

Her daughter looked down at her costume. _Costume_ was a loose term, it was more like booty shorts and a sports bra. And rollerskates. “What? I’m a roller derby girl.”

“Wha- you-” Susan looked to Rick, who stared at his baby girl like he’d been punched in the solar plexus. Hard.

“Oh my God, you look like a hooker!” William cackled.

Susan jumped. “Will! We do not say, _Oh my God_ , and we absolutely do not say… _that_ word in this house! Do you understand me, young man?”

“Yes, ma’am,” William said dutifully, not the least bit contrite as he eyed his sister with a gloating smirk. She was in trouble, and he was thrilled.

_As usual_.

Daniel’s little face pinched in confusion. “Momma, what’s a hooker?”

Susan winced. “Wha-I- well, when… girls don’t have good daddies… the free hand of the market… remember in Sunday school, when Misses Pritchett talked about Mary Magdalene?”

“Is Misses Pritchett a hooker?” Daniel asked, even more confused than before.

Susan looked helplessly at Rick.

Right on cue, Rick made a claw with his hand and swooped in on Daniel with an exaggerated sneer. “A ‘ooker is a pirate with a great big ‘ook!” He growled at Daniel, who squealed in delight. “Argh!”

He patted Susan's shoulder, the _let-me-run-point-on-this_ pat, and she laid her hand over his and gave him a _have-I-told-you-lately-that-I-love-you_ squeeze.

_Marriage._

“You,” he pointed at Mary Claire, unable to really look at her full-on without his face cramping in pain. “Put on clothes. Now.”

“But Dad-”

“No. No butts.” He made a slicing motion with his hand to cut her off. “Especially not yours. Maybe your mother’s-”

William and Mary both said, “Ew” as Susan stifled a giggle.

“-but definitely not yours.” He circled his arm like he was winding a pitch, finger pointing past Mary, through their bedroom and to the hallway this time. “Clothes. On. Now.”

She stamped her feet. “Dah-ah-ahd!”

Rick’s mouth pressed into a thin line. His eyes narrowed. “One…”

“Mary, listen to your father,” Susan said in her best _please-be-reasonable-dear_ tone.

“Yeah, Mary, listen to Dad,” William crowed.

“Will, stay out of this,” Rick snapped, and William went quiet. “Two…”

“Ugh!” Mary threw her head back, fists clenched at her sides. “This house is so lame!”

She turned on her heel and stomped out of their bedroom. Susan braced herself for the loud _Wham!_ when Mary slammed her door.

She heard something beeping. “Popsicle sticks - the cupcakes!”

Two more quick dabs at William and she stepped back to consider her handiwork for a second. “Looks good, champ. Don’t rub up against anything.”

“Or kiss any girls,” Rick teased, waggling his eyebrows.

“Coot-ties,” Daniel sang from the counter.

Susan paused to kiss him on the cheek as she bustled out of the bathroom. “I almost forgot to give you my Momma-cooties today.”

Daniel giggled, giving her a bashful smile as he at wiped his cheek.

Rick caught him under the armpits and lifted him off the counter. Daniel was off like a shot out of their bedroom before his feet touched the ground.

“Didn’t get any cooties this mornin’,” Rick rumbled, wrapping his arms around her waist and dragging her back to him. He looked over her shoulder down the neckline of her nightgown.

William double-timed it out of their bedroom, flushing all the way down his neck and mumbling, “Gross, get a room.”

Rick snorted, saying close to her ear, “Own this whole fuckin’ ‘ouse, don’t I?”

“Cupcakes,” she murmured, turning her head to give him a quick kiss.

“Can I lick the icin’ off your beaters?” he asked, cupping and squeezing her breasts.

“Ugh - God, you guys!” Mary stopped dead in her tracks two steps into their bedroom. She clapped her hand over her eyes and spun around. “Gah-ross!”

“Mary! Do not say, _God_ in this house! I’m serious!” Susan wriggled out of Rick’s arms, ignoring his huff.

“Is this fine?” Mary asked her as Susan came out of the bedroom. She was wearing leggings and a crop top.

“Where’s the other ‘alf of the shirt?” Rick asked from behind Susan.

Susan turned with pleading eyes, waving her hand at Mary. “Deal with this for me, please? I have to get the cupcakes out.”

He nodded seriously. “On it.”

He gave Susan a pat on the ass, _Go_ , and said, “If your silly stupid friends jumped off a high-rise buildin’ with nothin’ but a raincoat as a parachute, would you do it too?”

Susan heard Mary’s disgusted scoff as she headed down the stairs. “You are such a dictator, Dad.”

“You think you know what a dictatah is? I once ‘ad to fight my way out of a North Korean prison camp usin’ a belt buckle and a soda can-”

She narrowly missed stepping on one of William’s knee pads as she rolled her eyes.

____________________________________________________________________________

Twenty minutes later, the cupcakes were cooling on a rack, the butter for the icing was softening on the counter, and the children were costumed (appropriately, much to Mary’s chagrin) and headed out the door.

“Bye, Mom. Love you,” Mary sang as she pecked Susan on the cheek.

“Bye, sweetie,” Susan replied, a little stunned at the complete one-eighty. But then, that was the emotional rollercoaster ride called _raising teenagers_. She called after her, “You look beautiful!”

Mary gave her a warm wave as she climbed into the car.

William took a running start from the base of the stairs and slid across the foyer, skidding to a stop to give her a quick one-armed hug. “Later, Mom!”

Susan leaned away, eyes darting warily between his lipstick-covered face and her hair. “Later, dude. Hey, don’t forget your horns!”

“Got ‘em!” He stuck them up in the air without looking back as he jogged to the car.

Daniel tried to imitate his brother; it was more of a hop-skip-slid across the hardwood, ending in a triumphant pose, arms akimbo.

She fought a smile as she bent over to kiss his cheek. “Bye bye, Spiderman.”

Daniel cocked his head and kissed her on the lips. It was a wet, sticky one.

_The best kind_.

“Are you coming to my party?” he asked for the hundredth time as he shouldered his backpack.

“Yes, baby.” She touched her forehead to his. “I’m bringing cupcakes.”

“Spider cupcakes?” he asked hopefully, dimples out.

She beamed, flashing her matching ones. “Is there any other kind?”

He pumped his tiny fist in the air, “Yes!” and bolted for the car.

“Did you remember to put Mary’s cello in the car?” she asked as Rick stepped up for his goodbye kiss.

He threaded his arms around her waist. “Don’t I always?”

“No,” she smiled as his lips caught hers.

She smoothed her hands up his chest and over his shoulders as his squeezed her ass.

_Feels so good._

She sucked his tongue.

He pressed her back against the open front door.

“Mmm-nmm…”

_Beep bebebeeep!!!_

_Mother butler..._

Their lips pulled apart with a loud _smooch_.

“Do they ‘ave ‘ouse keys?” Rick asked lightly, looking out at the car.

Mary was in the front seat, leaning over her seatbelt and laying on the horn. The two boys were in the back, pretending to gag as they strangled themselves.

Susan sighed, frowning. “They’d just find another way in.”

He kissed her forehead. “Gotta run a few errands. Be back in an hour or so.” He gave her a meaningful look. “Be ‘ere when I get back.”

Her stomach dipped pleasantly. She nodded. “It’s a date.”

____________________________________________________________________________

She heard the _ding-dong_ of the doorbell over the whirl of the handheld mixer at eight-thirty.

“Who in the world…” she murmured to herself as she undid her apron strings.

She tried to peer through the etched oval glass of the front door before she opened it.

_UPS?_

Did she order something off Amazon and forget again?

She opened the door. “Good morning, how-”

Eyes wide, her mouth worked like a fish’s.

Rick was standing on their front stoop in a brown uniform and matching trucker hat, a package under one arm and a clipboard in his hand. He had on reflective blue aviators and a shit-eating grin.

“Mornin’, ma’am. Are you Susan Ford?”

She nodded, completely dumbstruck. Was he serious? He couldn’t be.

_No way._

“Got a package for you.” He tipped his sunglasses down his nose and looked at her. “A very large one.”

_Nope, he’s serious._

She felt herself sway, cinching together the neckline of her nightgown with one hand as she cleared her throat and tried to get into character. It was difficult when her husband looked so completely ridiculous and hot as hell at the same time.

“I am. Misses Ford. Yes.” She nodded.

What was she supposed to say? _Hmm, looks like it’s going to rain - you should probably come in for sex?_

She fought the urge to burst into nervous giggles.

“I need you to sign for this.” He held out his clipboard, completely unperturbed by her stage fright.

She took it from him, still trying to wrap her legs around - her head around his outfit -

_Get it together, Susan._

“I-I don’t have a pen,” she said breathlessly. “Would you… come inside while I get one?”

He grinned. “Love to.”

He closed the door behind him and followed her into the kitchen, so close he bumped into her when she stopped abruptly.

“Oops! Excuse me!” she chimed.

“Don’t mind a’tall,” he rumbled, eyes on her tits.

She blushed, opening and closing kitchen drawers without really looking in them. “Oh, shoot. I don’t have any pens in here. Maybe there are some-” she licked her lips, “in the bedroom?”

He smoothed his hand over her hip, reveling in her startled jump. “Sounds perfectly logical.”

She tried a coy smile. “It’s just… upstairs… this way.”

He took her by the hand. “Show me.”

She nodded, leading him through the kitchen and up the carpeted staircase. By the time they were standing beside their king-sized bed, the nervous fluttering in her belly had become a warm pulse of anticipation.

She ran her fingertips delicately along the neckline of her nightgown. “What sort of a package did you say it was, Mister…?”

His eyes tracked the movement as he muttered distractedly, “Dick. Call me Dick.”

“Dick,” she breathed, smiling a little in spite of herself as she stepped closer. She smoothed her hands over his chest.

“Like I said, it’s a very large package.” He wrapped his strong arms around her waist. “Very long and very hard.”

She giggled.

If there was one thing she loved about Rick more than anything else, it was his playfulness.

 

She threaded her arms around his neck. “Is it thick?”

She licked her lips. “I love thick packages.”

He grinned, grinding his hard-on against her belly. “S’that right? Why don’t you lie down on the bed and find out?”

With an excited squeal, she climbed onto the bed, relishing the light smack he gave her ass as he clambered after her.

She laid down, head nestled in the pile of throw pillows, and reached for him.

He straddled her, bending over to bury one hand in her hair and cup the back of her head as he kissed her deeply.

She loved this - kissing him. The way his lips moved between hers. His tongue in her mouth, stroking her, thrusting deep, mimicking what he wanted to do to her with his cock. The way he touched her, the way he pinched and tugged her nipples, gently pulled her hair, squeezed her belly…

“God, Rick…” she mewled as he kissed down her jaw and neck, to that sweet spot right below her ear. She made a high-pitched, “Uhh!” as he sucked.

He caught the fabric of her nightgown at her hips, scrunching and working it up her body until it was under her breasts. He sat back on his heels and helped her raise her arms and drag it off.

She squeezed his biceps when he made to move down her body, shaking her head. “I want it.”

“You want what, my darlin’?” he asked, cupping her face in his hand.

She touched his jaw. “I want you inside me.”

He nodded. “Turn over.”

Her favorite position was him behind her, so deep inside her she could feel it in her stomach while she touched her clit.

He’d taken his uniform off; she could feel the heat coming off his bare skin as he settled between her legs and spread her asscheeks.

She bowed her back, laying down on her forearms and pressing her ass up and toward him as he pushed in.

“Ohhh God-”

“Fuck yeah.”

He was so big, filling her up completely. She closed her eyes, focusing on the sweet drag as he pulled out slowly and pushed back in with a groan.

The next time he pulled back, she clenched around him, both of them moaning as the sensation intensified.

He picked a slow, deep rhythm, holding her asscheeks apart so he could watch her take his cock as he stroked into her.

“Uhhn, Rick - so good, baby - so deep.”

“Bring it back to me,” he told her, pulling her back to meet him.

She started to rock in time with his thrusts. Her cunt made slick, wet sounds as he pumped into her.

She reached under her belly, fingertips finding her clit as she whimpered, “Harder.”

He put a little power in it, keeping his tempo slow.

“Come on, baby,” she coaxed, knowing he worried about warming her up before he let loose. “I’m ready. Give it to me.”

She looked back at him over her shoulder. “Fuck me hard, baby.”

He snapped his hips forward on the next thrust; she felt her ass and the backs of her thighs ripple with the force of it, felt the head of his cock bump against her cervix.

“Yeah, baby. Like that.”

He picked up speed, balls slapping against her belly as he pounded into her.

She could hear him breathing harshly, could hear him grunt and groan every time she squeezed her cunt around him.

Her orgasm was starting to build low her her belly. She worked her clit faster, clenching down on him. “Uhn - fuck! Give it to me, Rick!”

His hand gripped her shoulder, pulling her back to meet him as he slammed into her over and over again. Their bedsprings creaked, headboard pounding rhythmically against the wall.

She was practically hyperventilating as he fucked her, concentrating on the deep, sweet aching feeling of his cock butting against her and dragging through her over and over and -

“I’m coming - oh God - coming, I’m coming!”

Her orgasm snapped through her like lightening; she shuddered and jerked beneath him, mouth open and eyes squeezed shut so tightly she saw lights behind her eyelids.

Everything was warm and loose as she floated. She let her head hang between her shoulders, let her body swing back and forth as he rode her out, coming a few minutes after her with a, “Haah-aah” and a hard, deep thrust.

He held her against him as he came, she felt his cock pulse and twitch inside her.

She looked back at him over her shoulder, wiping her bangs out of her eyes. He was slick with sweat, coarse dark chest hair glistening, thick muscles on his arms and chest loose and relaxed.

He grinned and jutted his chin at her. “What?”

She gave him a lazy smile. “That was awesome.”

He saluted her with a lazy smile of his own. “I aim to please.”

He patted her ass, lifting and jiggling her cheeks before he slowly pulled out.

Rolling onto her side, she smoothed her hand along the duvet next to her. “Lay down with me?”

He did, toweling himself off with his uniform shirt first before climbing onto the bed with her. He settled in beside her with his face pressed into her breasts.

She stroked his head and shoulders. “I needed that.”

“I know you did.” He looked up at her with a cocky half-smile. “Nothin’ gets past me.”

She _hmph_ ed lightly. “Puh-lease. I was six months pregnant with Mary Claire before you figured that one out, Magnum.”

It was something they could laugh about now, with all the years behind them. For a long time, she couldn’t bring it up without Rick getting a hurt expression and stalking out of the room.

She’d figured he wouldn’t be interested in fatherhood - he was always going on and on about being a lone wolf, too dangerous to be tied down to anyone. And at that point, they’re relationship had been… tentative, to say the least. A hot one-night-stand in Budapest had turned into a ten-night-stand in seven countries over five months by the time she conceived Mary Claire. She found out she was pregnant on a mission in Cambodia, and was on a plane back home the next morning.  

Susan had always wanted to be a mother. Life seemed to be doling out second-chances at that point, and she took hers and ran.

What she hadn’t counted on was Rick Ford showing up on the front doorstep of the quaint two-story Colonial she purchased in Rhode Island, demanding an explanation. It was pouring down rain and he was soaked - having done the most dramatic and impractical thing and driven his motorcycle cross-country looking for her. Wearing a leather bomber jacket and missing a shave, he looked so impossibly handsome and wild, and she was as sure then she’d made the right choice for the both of them as she was confused about why he was standing on her front porch in the freezing rain.

It wasn't like they were in love.

No matter how many years pass, no matter how many hundred million billion ways she tries to make it up to him, she will never, ever forget the look on his face when she said that to him.

Or when he saw her swollen belly, the baby things in the living room, the way she cradled herself as she said, _Rick, I’m so sorry_.

He made love to her on her living room rug, hard and fast with his hand fisted in her hair, rasping in her ear how could she do this to him, he loved her, he thought he’d never find her again, he loved her, he belonged to her, he loved her.

He put his condo in Arlington on the market the next week, and rented an apartment three miles from her house. He took her on dates and to her doctor’s appointments, made her dinner and mowed her lawn and rubbed her back with Nivea. He begged her to marry him, to build a life with him, and finally - finally - she did.

A week before Mary Claire was born, Susan waddled into the Newport County courthouse at eleven-thirty in the morning and took Richard Ford to be her lawfully wedded husband.

He moved his things into her house that evening, and nine days later, brought his new bride and his baby girl home from the hospital. To their home.

“Didn’t think you’d be so good at hidin’ in plain sight,” he teased back.

“I was a spy,” she reminded him playfully.

He snorted. “For a year.”

She smiled, touched the corner of his lips. “It was long enough to get what I wanted.”

_What I needed._

“I’m glad,” he said softly, eyes wandering over her face. He kissed her. “I love you. So much, my darlin’.”

“I love you, baby,” she murmured, stroking her hand over his jaw. “You are all of my love.”

She laid her head down on the pillow and closed her eyes. “Will you set the alarm for ten-thirty?’

“Don’t need to.” He tapped his temple. “Once it’s programed -”

“Rick.”

“Alright, alright.”

They slept through the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, is this really only my second Susan/Rick work?
> 
> Happy (belated) Halloween, Spy fandom friends! I decided to do something a little different for the Susan/Rick installment. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy.
> 
> Comment if you are so inclined. I do dearly love to hear from you, and wonder how you are!


End file.
